Lying My Way From You
by Kana Mai 728
Summary: Deidara is an aspiring artist who gets the chance of a lifetime, provided he can stand an impossibly smug Curator. This will be a three-shot. Shounen-ai. Possible Sequel.
1. Chapter 1

**Lying My Way From You**

Deidara looked at the body of the crow he was trying to mold out of clay.

He just stared at it, perplexed. Yeah, that was the right word.

It was all wrong, the lines, the curves, the choice of bird. It was all freaking wrong. It was a disgrace.

He was pissed, yeah, he was way too pissed to be trying to work…no, he was more than just pissed, he was homicidal, dangerous, atomic, about to blow everything in his path up to smithereens.

He was ready to get revenge, humiliate, and just plain out murder the damn bastard!

He just had to devise the right plan and he could get rid of that cursed Curator. Perhaps just blow him up into a million pieces, museum and all. 'Art is an Explosion', weren't those his favorite words to say? And he could do it too, he had no trouble with lighting things up, he'd done it in his youth.

The blonde cursed and just grabbed the knife next to the mound of clay he had tried to work on and started stabbing it repeatedly, just started to plunge it in then pull it out, only to plunge in again harder and repeat the action a thousand times.

Three days damn it. It had been three days since he lost the opportunity to have his artwork showcased at the Akatsuki Art Galleria. If it hadn't been for that Curator, he would've been in.

The smug man had taken all his hopes with that diabolical stare of his and, though he'd been amazed by the man at first, he wanted to kill him now. In cold blood, hang his body in the center of the main hall at the gallery as the most impressive and expressive piece of artwork ever created, then blow the whole shit up.

Damn, what would Master Sasori think of him now? His sensei had pulled all the strings necessary to get him a meeting with the man in charge of the place, all that had needed to be done was show up with the portfolios of his works, pictures, his sketches and that would open up the doors to more meetings. He had been asked to go during one of the gallery's showings, that way he saw for himself what it would be like if he was asked to display his work. He would also see, at first hand, the kind of art exhibited there. His sensei should have gone with him that night but had not been able to. The man had taken a flight out of the city, that same morning, to his hometown on a family emergency and hadn't returned yet. Wouldn't return for a few more days either.

Thankfully he hadn't called yet, the man preferred to hear news face to face, whether good or bad. Deidara didn't know how he could explain the situation to him either. His sensei, who was also one of the gallery's artists, would be disappointed in him. Yeah, he just didn't want to deal with the man's disapproving tone anytime soon, the man had done everything to get him that opportunity and Deidara had just thrown it away.

The blonde sighed as he got tired of stabbing, punching and ripping the clay apart. He pulled his bangs out of his eyes with the back of his hand and looked down at the mess he'd created. Then he looked around his studio, the place was a mess, there was clay all over the main room. Hn, maybe he did get a bit carried away but, he was still very angry even after the workout. Thankfully, no one knew where he was, so it was not as if someone was going to see what he'd done.

He had long ago decided to get the place just so he could work on his art and it was convenient. Close to the University, close to his job, it had one bath, a kitchenette and one room he used for storage and sometimes slept in, on a couch-futon he had bought. Then there was the main room, which was his workspace and the reason he fell in love with the place. It was big, spacious with a wall full of windows, which yes, looked over to another building used for storage but provided a lot of light.

It was far from being the size of a normal studio, shit, all the rooms put together it was like four times the size of a normal one but, it still wasn't as big as a loft either. Because he shared the floor with four other people and the downstairs was a warehouse used for the sell and storage of furniture, the rent was cheap enough so he could afford it. One of the good things being, he had access to the roof and he could let some of his works dry out in the sun if he needed to. Another was, that the access point to the apartments was hidden in an alley in the back on the opposite side of where deliveries were made. The place was perfect, separated from normal apartment buildings and completely concealable.

Staring at the clay on his windows, he thought back to two nights ago and regretted going to the damn showing. Regretted lashing out as he did but, the man had pushed him to it. After waiting for so long, just looking into those continuously smug eyes, he had lost it. He shouldn't have done what he did, but he had and it was now too late.

He thought deeply about it now as he heard faint footsteps out in the hallway and looked up at the ceiling and saw clay stuck to it. He had really lost it. Damn, he thought of how Master Sasori was going to lecture him the moment he found out, when he was back from the trip, he wasn't going to get a chance to excuse himself at all.

_(Three nights prior)_

_Deidara got out of his economic car and looked towards the Akatsuki Art Galleria. The building itself was amazing with a modern-industrial architecture that went perfectly well with the buildings around it but, made it stand out at the same time. One of the valet guys grabbed his keys and gave him a number, which he put in his pocket and his car was taken away. He stood there just looking at the black metal front doors that marked the entrance, holding on to his set of portfolios, even as the female in front greeted him and asked for his invitation and name. _

_He couldn't respond, for the moment he was lost in the thought of how surreal it was that he was finally getting in to see the place that was only accessible to the elite. Better than that, he was actually getting the chance to become one of it's few fine artists._

"_Your name sir?" the woman asked again in a slightly annoyed tone and he looked at her, not impressed by her. She was just another woman who thought she was more beautiful than what she actually was._

"_Deidara." he told her quickly and waited as she checked in a list then spoke into her collar._

_Master Sasori was the one with the invitation and hadn't been able to give it to him, since he'd left so suddenly. He didn't think of giving her the explanation of the missing invitation as it would sound like he was trying to crash the party and he had been _asked _to come, not trying to sneak in._

_As they both waited for a response, Deidara looked around, odd, expensive plants in pots that matched the building's motif adorned the outside. Being October and the weather still fair but, chilling with every passing day, he wondered how long they would last in the cold before they died. They seemed strategically placed though and the pots seemed heavy so maybe there was something more to them. _

_Another car pulled up to the front and it was so unique it brought him out of his thoughts about gardening and decoration placing. The thing was a classic, black, sleek, with elegant lines that told you beauty came in so many different forms. It was the kind of thing only a very wealthy person from a very prosperous and prominent family could own._

_Deidara watched as the door opened and a young, tall, suit-upped man stepped out of the driver's side and handed the keys to another one of the valet boys. With his long jet-black hair tied into a ponytail, his skin just lightly tanned, he had the profile and posture of someone who was well bred and deserved everything they got. He was handsome, no doubt, and had this cool, calm and collected air about him that for some reason produced awe in Deidara like he had never felt before. _

_He stared at the man's profile for a moment vaguely having the thought that it was reminiscent of something from long ago, but he was too caught up in looking at him to give it proper thought._

"_Good evening Uchiha-san. Hoshigaki-san is inside; he's been anxiously waiting for you." the woman told the dark-haired man in an overly warm tone and he walked straight inside without giving her or Deidara a single glance. _

"_Thank you." was all the man said as he walked in. His voice deep, masculine and one of authority. Completely unforgettable. _

_It really did remind him of something from long ago but, his anxiety spiked in that moment, his heart pounding away like it wasn't into meeting with an Uchiha and therefore trying to escape. They were, after all, the owners of the gallery. Having been established by Uchiha Madara years ago, when the man had passed, it had remained in the family though not many of them were initially into art, they had other businesses that left them more cash than they could spend in a lifetime…or twenty as it were. They had kept it though, Uchiha Obito had taken the reigns of the gallery, giving it the makeover it had and the man had named one of the few Uchiha interested in the gallery as it's Curator. Uchiha Itachi. Who was handsome, young, cultured, very intelligent and with a good artistic eye for quality, originality and uniqueness. He had been and was, _supposedly_, the best choice among the aspiring Uchiha._

"_Excuse me, miss. Was that Uchiha Itachi-san, hn?" he asked the female and she smiled, a slight blush coming over her cheeks, like if just hearing the man's name could produce some sort of fantasy she wanted to live in._

"_Yes-" she began saying but was interrupted as someone spoke into her earpiece and she touched the thing all _I'm-the-head-of-this_ and crap. "You may go inside. I understand you will be meeting with Uchiha-san tonight?" she asked him with a fake smile on her lips that made him feel like blowing her up._

"_Yes, I will meet him." he told the woman and smirked. She gave him an eye over and somewhat seemed relieved as if she could cross him out of a mental list she had placed his name on._

"_Good luck with that." she said with a smirk wanting to escape her lips. "At least you're dressed decently." The tone made him lose his own smirk and worry for a moment._

_"He'll approach you when he's ready, please enjoy this evening until then. One of our artist is exhibiting his latest work tonight, it's quite interesting." she added on a lighter tone then opened the door for him. _

_As Deidara stepped inside, he caught her glare but ignored the hell out of it and just took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally for any kind of outcome in the night. He had waited so long for this opportunity, he couldn't believe he was finally getting it._

_Inside, the gallery was designed along the lines of the modern-industrial look it had going on outside. There were smooth lines with enough metal here and there, strategically placed raw materials adding to the rough décor. Spaces were lit by huge over hanging lights that were far from what he had seen in other wannabe prestigious galleries. The space was opened up in the center with all the artist's works on display right there on the main floor. He could see out in the back of the hall that there was more space, perhaps more halls with other artist's works. Not only that but, on each sidewall, there was a staircase that led up to a balcony that had walls filled with paintings. One of which was huge, of a creature, who seemed to be half-man, half-shark. The deep reds in the painting playing off well with the slate and grays of the creature's skin. The thing was magnificent and as he stared, Deidara hadn't noticed he'd been standing in the same spot for five minutes until one of the servers came up to him to offer him a glass of white wine. _

_He took it and drank it on the spot; hoping it would calm him down enough to face the artistic crowd, then he placed the glass down on the tray and grabbed another as he started to walk into the small groups of people who, unlike him, were directly invited and either looking to purchase or criticize the artwork. _

_For a while, he followed one of the groups of spectators composed of two men and a stunning blue haired woman that was kilometers and kilometers ahead of the witch he met outside when it came to beauty. He chose to tail them because not only did they seem quiet and into the art gazing but, they were not really focused on the rest of the people there or their absurd views on the artist's choice of colors and elements. They all had piercing too, as if their bodies were artwork themselves and Deidara couldn't help but admire them along the way. The works they chose to linger on were the ones he would've chosen to stare at longer as well, if he weren't following them._

_What ended up separating him from the trio was the voice of the Uchiha he was supposed to meet with. For a moment, he stopped and looked up at the balcony where it came from and found the man staring down towards somewhere, his hands on the gun-metal gray railing. An odd-looking tall man stood next to him, saying something in a lower tone that had the man's eyes suddenly shift towards what seemed to be his direction but, Deidara couldn't tell if he had indeed looked at him or not because the Uchiha turned away the very moment his eyes should have landed on him. _

_His heart beat quicker for a moment as he thought that the man would either call him up or come down to him and ask to see his work, in front of every invitee. Not that he was shy about other's opinions but yeah, he had really wanted to do this somewhere private. If it hadn't been because Master Sasori had insisted it be done now, he would have waited. Otherwise, the meet would have been postponed for another month or two, if not forgotten and all, as the Uchiha was to leave the country on business in a few days and he couldn't reschedule any of his other appointments. _

_He really couldn't complain though, he had decided, in the end, to come because, obviously, he had things to do as well and wanted to get it over with and know off the bat, rather than wait longer and be rejected anyway. If he could get a deal before the man left, then all that was left to do was to wait until he came back and he could have his own show. _

_Deidara waited for a moment to see if there would be any indication that the Uchiha would call him or turn to look at him and when none came, he continued on his way. He really didn't want to pressure the man either. He was the one in need, not the gallery but, he was feeling a bit desperate with the wait. He wanted walk up to the second floor and get it over with but, he felt he couldn't and shouldn't rush things. Therefore, he just wandered along the first floor, stopping only to take a glimpse of a sculpture made of metal. _

_The sculpture in front of him seemed to run along the lines of a sword but, instead of a normal blade, it had many thinner, smaller ones that formed a scale like effect along the body of it. At the end of it, it had a mouth formed to look like the jaws of a shark. For a moment he was compelled to touch it but refrained from doing do. The thing looked sharp enough to slice deeply with no effort at all and the last thing he needed was to get an ambulance called out and ruin both his one chance and a fellow artist's night. _

"_Ah, I see you can't peel your eyes away from my Samehada." he heard a man say from behind him and he turned to look way up at a man that had to be standing at 6' 6" maybe an inch or two taller. His shark-like eyes had a glint of murderous intent in them and as he smirked, and Deidara got a view of those sharpened pearly whites, he felt a bit uneasy. _

"_Are you the artist? Hoshigaki Kisame-san, hn?" he asked the man sucking up his nervousness and playing it cool. The man nodded, his smirk seeming livelier. "Your work is very interesting." he stated as he looked back at the sword._

"_Thank you, Deidara-san." at the sound of his name Deidara looked up at the man confused. "It's nice to finally meet you; Sasori-san has spoken of your work on many occasions. The artists whose works are displayed and sold in this gallery are close knit. We all know each other well and often work together. All of us are here tonight you know, well except for Sasori-san." he added and he found himself unable to usher a single word. _

_Master Sasori spoke about him with the others? _

_"I saw you, earlier, following Yahiko-san's group; they are very interesting artists as well, not really my taste but, you might want to check out their work, it's in the other halls. Each is themed in the artist's own personal style, so it's quite an experience." Hoshigaki stated and Deidara nodded. The man really had a bizarre stare._

"_Thanks, it's a pleasure to meet you as well Hoshigaki-san, I'll do that, hn." Deidara told him as he bowed and the man nodded turning to walk away with a cool smirk on his face. Deidara looked around thinking that the Uchiha would be around but, when he didn't see him, he spoke to the artist before he could be out of whisper-hearing distance. "Excuse me, Hoshigaki-san but, where is Uchiha Itachi-san?"_

_The shark-like man slightly turned and grinned at him as if he had expected the question. "He'll find you; he's just wants to see how…patient you are. It's annoying but, you _will_ see him. Do look at the other artists' work until then Deidara-san." he said then turned and started mingling with the other spectators. _

_Deidara finished off his second glass of wine, set down the glass and grabbed a third from another passing server. Deciding not to wait for the Uchiha any longer and taking advantage of the night, he did as Hoshigaki-san had suggested, he went hall, into hall, into hall of different themed artwork. Each depicting the artist's tastes, their views, their passions. _

_Master Sasori's display hall had been easy to spot, with all the odd puppets, sculptures; all the old wooden décor, it couldn't be mistaken for anyone else's. He also liked the one with the bunch of masks. Masks of every kind, every color, some playful and some looked plain out demonic. They were still wonderful though. Then there was the hall with the bunch of tastefully pictured, painted and sculpted pierced, naked people. It was interesting to look at as well. They were all so different from one another, with absolutely different views but he respected everything he saw, it was so unique and perhaps the reason they were being displayed at the gallery to begin with. _

_Taking a deep breath, he felt a yearning to belong to that odd collection of artist and he sauntered off to the last hall, which was on the second floor through a spiral staircase in his master's display hall. Some of the others had been like wise found with unique staircases leading the way upward. He didn't think of going up at first, since the Uchiha obviously knew he was on the first floor and about an hour had passed but, then he figured that if the man was trying to test out his patience it wouldn't matter if he suddenly vanished then reappeared somewhere else. _

_He should've stayed on the first floor, he would've thought later on. _

_As he looked up while climbing, he could feel a different vibe in the upstairs this time. The ceiling above was blood-red and as he reached the top and looked at the walls, they were also the same shade of red. A few over hanging lights brought the eyes directly to the paintings that adorned the walls. _

_Admiring each one he found a few of them daring, others dark, the majority a bit sinister yet…they were all, utterly amazing._

_The paintings had red eyes on them. Eyes with different black patterns, blue-black crows, dark-haired, pale-skinned men and women with those same blood-red eyes but, each one displaying a different black pattern. Some of the paintings were of patterns that mirrored the effects of different kaleidoscope, some more complex than others._

_One painting in particular caught his attention. The thing was almost life-size and he walked up to it, crossing the pale two feet wide rug that ran along the wall and marked the distance one should stand from the paintings. There were similar boundaries in the other halls but, being alone in there, he really doubted anyone would catch him crossing the line. _

_The painting was obviously of an Uchiha, one that he very well knew, he was supposed to meet and was waiting for. Yeah, there he was in all glorious splendor. _

_In the painting the handsome Uchiha Itachi stood leaning against a white wall with a blood-red arabesque design to it. He was shirtless, his upper body defined, muscular but not bulky. The black pants he wore hung from his hips loosely as if they were about to fall. _

_Frankly, they looked like an invitation to have them pulled down. Not really his type of style but, whatever._

_The painting gave the impression that they were silk, perhaps black satin. The way he looked out of the painting was the most shocking thing of all. His red, kaleidoscope eyes seemed to posses a yearning that was never to be fulfilled. Stepping closer to the painting he put down his portfolios and looked on, examining the strokes of the brush. How the skin, the hair, the eyes were highlighted. He followed the lines of the left shoulder, the arm, the elbow, the wrist, the hand that held a red and white mask before returning to the face. _

_He slightly stepped back with the thoughts of the painting's meaning, the mask had to mean something but, he couldn't figure it out. There was a secret to it, he just knew there was. Looking at the face he felt something from a long time ago again for the third time. Something was missing but, he couldn't think of it further as he heard a voice behind him._

"_Deidara-san." the now familiar voice of the Uchiha came as clear as day and he stepped away from the painting, picking up his portfolios and turning to look up into the gun-metal gray eyes of the Akatsuki Art Galleria's Curator. One of the overhead lights shining directly above him, as if the man was a brilliant work of art himself and was to be admired, perhaps even worshiped. Deidara couldn't look away for a moment, caught in something he didn't understand. The man's stare was what brought him out of the trance. It was cold._

"_Uchiha Itachi-san, it's nice to meet you." he quickly said bowing, realizing he had been caught crossing the line and needed to smooth things over. "Thank you for seeing me, I know you are an occupied man." he added smiling and looked up at the man's handsome face. In return he got a slightly intimidating careless stare, which he tried to ignore with no success._

"_Sasori-san said you were a promising artist. I would see your portfolios now." he said, his tone matching that of his stare, an uncaring one. _

_Deidara offered both. They were filled with the pictures of his work, a few of his sketches and paintings. As the man took them he stood there holding on to the glass of white wine as if it were a lifesaver. He waited and observed for any indication of like or dislike on the Uchiha's face and he took deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating. _

_There was nothing on the man's face, in his eyes. Anything would have been fine but, that indifferent stare was all he was getting as the Uchiha flipped through each one of his works. It almost drove Deidara mad and then some. Therefore, tired of the ever-burning silence, he tried to start-up a conversation._

"_Are these your artworks Uchiha-san?" he asked respectfully and the man said nothing. He tried another approach then. "They are quite amazing, hn. The details in the self-portrait are just wond-" he was cutoff mid-word._

"_We are not here to discuss my work but yours." the man told him bluntly in that annoying tone, he was beginning to detest. "Your sensei had shown me a few before, your technique has improved but, did he not tell you? Your creations are a bit wanting, missing something more…your work lacks…passion." he said flipping through them again._

"_What?" was the only thing he was able to mutter. He had dedicated his whole life to his art; he put in every breath of his, every drop of sweat, emotion, shit his _soul _into each one of his creations. "I have always made my creations with _passion_ as you say." He told the man with a smile trying to stay calm._

"_Then _**you**_ lack real passion." the man started with a firm and unsatisfied tone. "Either that or you lack the definition of it, what passion actually is, have not comprehended it or experienced it. Your work is very amateur, you are far from what we display here bu-" the Uchiha continued with that disappointed, somewhat disgusted tone. _

_It was between all the waiting, all the smug character, that stare of superiority, maybe the wine, that Deidara lost it and cut him off. He wasn't going to let himself get put down by some rich daddy's boy who thought he knew better than anyone else._

"_Look I'm up for constructive criticism and all but, you are going way too far. What the hell do _you_ know about me, hn? I've dedicated my life to this! What, you think you can put others down just because you come from a prominent family? Just because your family owns one of the most successful art galleries in the city?" yeah and he just kept on going for some reason he wouldn't comprehend then and there. "Hn, is _that_ what it is? Only _you_ have talent and can decide who has it or not because you went to the best university in the country, hn?" he almost but yelled at the man who just continued to look at him with that carelessness that just drove him further over the edge. To think he had been amazed by the man up until a couple of minutes ago. _

_Deidara ripped his portfolios from the man's hands, hardly catching the impression of one of his sketches falling. He then threw his remaining wine at the man's face in protest to that horrible haughty stare. He went nearly psychotic then, the man just stared at him slightly angered, staring him down as if he were nothing but a nuisance. He threw the glass at the floor in an immature show of anger and turned to leave walking over to the staircase in the middle of the room. _

_He caught a glimpse of his sketch, the one that had slipped out with his rendition of an owl in flight on it. He thought, for a moment, of going back and picking it up, he left it though, knowing it would either be disposed of or given to Master Sasori to return to him. _

_(End flashback)_

He had driven home after that but then changed route and gone straight for his studio. He hadn't wanted to see anyone and he sure as hell didn't want to give up any explanation. He had only received the call of his cousin yesterday because she was worried about him not coming home and had wanted to make sure he was still alive and well. He truly was thankful no one knew of his little secluded home away from home. His family thought he did his work at the university and he did do part of it there but not much of it. The rest thought he did it at home, which he never did, so it was perfect for him. A nice and quiet place for him to relax and take all his anger out and disconnect from the world.

This was why he now stood astounded in front of his door, wiping his clay filled hands on his work apron.

It was the fifteenth of the month, so it wasn't the property owner at his door. His neighbors never bothered him either, so he had no idea of who it could be.

He approached the door silently and looked out the little peephole. There was no one there. Moving away, to stand next to the door frame, another knock came and he just stayed as silent as possible waiting for whomever it was to go away. He wasn't going to ask who it was or what they wanted. He would pretend he wasn't home. Yeah, his place was a mess anyway thanks to his anger issues and homicidal tendencies.

Anyway, no one should know where he was so it couldn't possibly be someone he knew, so maybe the person had the wrong address and was knocking on his door mistakenly, searching for someone who obviously didn't live there.

Deidara waited patiently for the person to go away, then he heard a shuffle and watched as something began to appear underneath his door.

It was a large, golden yellow manila envelope and his name was written neatly and beautifully on the top of it.

**A/N**

**Well, I checked out all the mistakes and grammatical errors I made. I really can't post something up if I'm half-asleep. This is a re-posted chapter. Added a few things here and there, changed some to make it more interesting. I hope you all review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Lying My Way From You**

* * *

_Deidara waited patiently for the person to go away, then he heard a shuffle and watched as something began to appear underneath his door._

_It was a large, golden yellow manila envelope and his name was written neatly and beautifully on the top of it._

* * *

For a moment he felt a bit of panic, just who the hell knew where he stayed? No, not a single person he knew, worked with, studied with, friends, family…no one freaking knew where he stayed!

He stared at the thing as he heard footsteps walk away from his door in even steps towards where the elevator was.

Slowly he took a deep breath and kneeled, bending down to check under the door making sure there were no shoes on the other side, no shadows to be seen.

Seeing absolutely nothing, he quietly waited then stood and looked through the peephole again.

Nothing there, the mysterious person, who knew where he lived, was gone.

He picked up the envelope, feeling relieved and grabbed the handle undoing the three sets of locks on the door quietly and slowly opened it.

He saw nothing in the hallway towards the elevators. It was all clear but, there was a lingering familiar scent in the air.

It wasn't the scent of someone cooking that normally floated in the hallway thanks to his ramen-loving neighbor who lived down the hall in the smallest of the apartments. He knew that, not because he had ever met the guy but, because he had heard the other's voice talking to his friends as they walked down the hall. The kid was loud and the only food he spoke about with passion was ramen.

He opened his door further and poked his head out, then turned to see nothing running down the hallway to the stairs. The entire hallway was clear, free of any stranger, utterly free of his neighbors.

The blonde sighed thankfully, releasing the breath he had held in unknowingly.

So, someone knew where he stayed but, whom? There was no way for anyone to know. He hadn't even met the rest of the people in the building, they didn't know who he was either so, how could they tell someone else?

Perhaps he was just imagining that it was someone else and it turned out to be one of his neighbors themselves. If it wasn't them, then it probably was the owner. It was the only logical explanation. Perhaps, the man had been unable to come and had left the envelope with one of them to give to him. That had to be it.

Deidara walked over to one of his working side tables and sat on one his favorite stools. What an idiot he was, on the verge of paranoia because of an overactive imagination without knowing the real truth behind the envelope. All that worry when it probably had a very logical and non-threatening explanation.

He truly still was an immature fool at twenty. His cousin was right.

There could be a thousand explanations and apprehensive him could only think of someone looking for him on purpose? For _what_ purpose? Yeah, that was paranoia for you, it was completely absurd.

He undid the envelope's tie, smirking at himself for being an unreasonable, young idiot and pulled out the thick paper inside…it was a sheet of drawing paper, same thickness he often used, same bone white color, same… he flipped it over and almost fell off the stool as a chill ran down his spine.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. _He wished it wasn't really _it_.

He held it tightly in his hands and stared at it, for what seemed like forever, unable to comprehend the meaning of it.

He looked it over carefully a couple of times, going over every line and detail. _Shit. It just can't be_.

His eyes were not mistaken and, though he didn't want to admit it because it meant a lot of things, he was looking down at his own creation. It was the sketch of the owl he had left behind at the gallery just because he hadn't wanted to go back and deal with the messed up Uchiha for another second.

A million questions flooded into his mind as his heart started to beat quicker, his breath sharpened and he got a searing headache.

There was no freaking way.

Out of _all_ the people who could find him for some other retarded reason, it made no sense that it was actually _him_. The _him_…the _Uchiha_.

The thought of him sent another rush of chills down his spine and brought back one and one thing only…that odd life-size painting, the one with the mask. The one with the obvious secret. That particular painting, yeah it just had to be _him_. Thinking further, there was that carelessness that seemed to be the man's staple. That _I'm-a-very-busy-man-that-can't-give anyone-another-chance_. That air of being superior in every way compared to others. Those cold, heartless eyes.

Deidara could only reach one conclusion and it made him want to pick up his things and go, just run the hell away from the city.

The man had to be Yakuza…or in some other crime organization shit. Maybe he just killed people for fun, some sort of sadistic play. Perhaps, he just hunted them down and toyed with their minds and their emotions until they committed suicide or something. The painting was the key to it, the whole mask thing in it, had to have a significance. Those eyes that wanted something that seemed so far out of reach.

Yeah a serial killer in disguise.

Yeah, he hadn't given much thought to it then but, if he put the pieces together right, that mask could have just been some sort of metaphor for living a twisted double life or some shit that you couldn't publicly confess or show.

Yeah, and all that red? That could have symbolized blood…no screw _symbolized_, it was _blood_-red paint, it was _blood_! Yeah, one plus one equaled a murderer.

Shit, out of all the psychopaths he could have met in his life.

Damn it! He _knew_ the Uchiha had to be one of those messed up rich people when he dealt with him. Now, he had been found by him. Only someone in the dark paths of life could find him.

Great, no one knew of his place, no one.

He was going to see that man, because the Uchiha would be back, and he would most likely die covered in his blood. Freaking psychopath making it seem like he committed suicide. Maybe then the bastard would actually display his artworks while spreading the word that he was 'completely saddened' by the fact he had been 'unable to spend more time' with the late artist and that his premature death was such a 'loss for the artistic community.'

Deidara was going to loose it, he could feel it-

He was pulled out from his thoughts abruptly hearing a very faint sound in his apartment.

If it wasn't because he was alone, his neighbors were gone and it was that time of day when there wasn't much traffic flow on the streets he wouldn't have noticed it at all. Except, it was so freaking quite and his senses were so alive, because of the threatening panic that was ready to wash over him, that he managed to pick up the soft noise.

He dropped his sketch, the thing just slipping free from his fingers to the top of the table, as he stood abruptly from the stool, knocking it over to the floor in the process of. He stood still and listened intently, silently.

It could have just been the paranoia again.

Another soft noise came, somewhere behind him.

No, he _was_ hearing soft footsteps behind him, it _wasn't_ his imagination.

He could feel a piercing stare on his back too and stayed completely still as he heard a ruffle of fabric. As if not moving would actually help him in any way.

Maybe it was just the wind…he _had_ left his room's window open and the curtain was heavy and…it could just be the paranoia. All he had to do was breathe, turn around and check, just turn the crap around and see that there was absolutely nothing to be afraid o-

"It took me two days to find you, Deidara-san." he heard the very familiar, cold and careless voice say and he grabbed the edges of the table, his knuckles going white, his heart beating in a frenzy as he released it and turned around slowly to look towards the entrance to the other room.

Paranoia was the least of his problems as panic rushed over him and threatened to give him a freaking heart attack.

There in front of the room's open door, looking like a six-foot-tall male model, wearing a stylish black tailored suit with a blood-red satin tie, it just had to be the color of blood, stood Uchiha Itachi.

The psychopath's face was blank, as always, careless, devoid of any emotion and utterly cold. Damn it, he was right! He hated being right.

Deidara became even more dismayed than what he already was and started wishing he hadn't really kept the place a secret from everyone. He was such an idiot at times. Idiot.

He _was_ going to die and rot away in his own pool of blood before anyone found him, _if_ they even found him.

The blonde decided that very moment that if it was to be that way, if he was to die at the hands of Uchiha Itachi, he was at least going to make the bastard bleed as well and try to take him down with all his might. The man was going to have to fight too and try not to get killed _himself_ in the process.

Deidara looked over his shoulder to the other table at the knife he had used to massacre the clay.

Damn, he was going to die over some wine-at-face-throwing and some major show of disrespectful immatureness.

Only a vengeful, powerfully rich and influential, intelligent criminal would actually come after whomever had disrespected them in such a way.

Do the job themselves to restore the honor of their tarnished…well, he didn't know _what_ exactly but, it had to be some pride bull-crap along with some pleasure of defeating the one who didn't succumb to your liking shit.

Measuring the distance between him and the knife, he focused back on the Uchiha. The man just stood there, expectant.

Leisurely he began to back away from the man and towards the other table in the center of the room, not losing the face-to-face, eye-to-eye contact even though he knew that he must have looked slightly suspicious and like he was about to have a heart attack.

Trying to make it look like he was just scared and shocked, and not indeed trying to get hold of a defensive weapon, he decided to establish a conversation. Unfortunately, though he tried to look calm, he couldn't control his nerves enough to make his voice seem less wimpy.

"H-how did you get-" some throat clearing. "i-in-inside, Uchiha-san, hn?" he asked, cursing himself for the stuttering.

Nothing.

"How did you ev-even…find me…Uchiha-san?" he continued, thankful he was managing to sound manlier.

Shock and awe hinted with dread came over him in a rush, since he had met the man a mere three days and two nights ago, he didn't know him long enough to know but, he could have sworn that what he was looking at could never happen. The Uchiha was smirking at him. His features changing entirely, seeming a bit more…handsome, a bit more warm…yeah warmly handsome and _sinister_.

"Your fire escape." he said, his voice deep, somewhat, husky. "The window was open and since you weren't opening your door, even though you _were_ home. I had to _find_ my own way…_in_." he said slyly putting emphasis in a few words, Deidara was sure was just to weird him out more.

_You sick, sick man. _Deidara thought as he took a few more steps back, further from him, closer to the knife. Just a couple more and he would reach the only hope he had.

"W-why-" Damn that damn stuttering again. He couldn't even formulate a question right. "c-come here, Uch-chiha-san, hn?"

Uchiha Itachi must have noticed what he was about to do because he took a few steps closer to him. "I _had_ to come and see you. You didn't let me finish talking and I _hate_ unfinished _business_." Damn, he _was_ going to die. "Had to clear this day just so I could come here. About finding you, well…I have…my ways. You have really kept this place a _secret_ from everyone, I can see why though… trying to redecorate with…is that, clay?" he added asking him the question sarcastically as he swept his eyes around the space and motioned to the wood ceiling that had a chunk of the clay stuck to it.

Deidara's eyes followed the sweep of the psychopath's arm so when he registered the Uchiha's movements it was way too late.

The Uchiha walked faster than what Deidara could move and before he knew it, the man stood in front of the bashed mound of clay on top of the main working table, right next to where the knife was.

The blonde watched the Uchiha take the knife in his hand and begin to carve eyes into the clay.

"Why did you want to come see me Uchiha-san, hn?" he managed to ask, his nervousness gone, now that he knew he would have to fight back with all his might. "I understand clearly that you don't like my work, Uchiha-san." he told him hoping that the repetition of his name, he had going on, and the firm tone, he was trying to muster, would remind the man that taking lives was a horrendous thing to do and get some sense into him.

He wasn't a god and just because someone disrespected you, didn't mean you had to hunt them down and kill them, like he probably had already done with other people. He didn't want to get added to that list of misfortunate beings.

The Uchiha stopped carving, turned gradually to face him, knife in hand, walking up to him slowly. He stopped only three feet away. His eyes unreadable, his smirk gone though the sinister still remained. "What was I saying that night?" Crap, he had to take that knife back. "Oh, yes…your art is far from what we display at the Akatsuki but, we believe that with you…" he said pointing at him with the knife. "…driving your passion deeply into your work we could proudly display it." the man told him in a cold tone.

"What?" he asked, there was no way he was hearing things right.

"Uchiha Obito-san, the current owner, is fascinated by your work and he wants _you…_" again with the knife pointing. "…as one of our artists." the Uchiha told him but Deidara just couldn't believe or trust a psychopath. It felt too much like in the movies, when the killer told you exactly what you wanted to hear, so that you would let your guard down, and then you were brutally beheaded or slashed or shot or some other messed up shit they liked to do.

"Well, is that so…Uchiha-san, hn." he began saying, playing along, he just needed to think of how to get his hands on the knife. "Well, Uchiha-san, I don't believe I should now-" he was cut off as the man stepped in closer to him and the knife tip came to rest over his chest.

"You are quite…_fascinating_." the man said, his tone changing, somewhat deeper.

Okay that threw him off, by like kilometers. What the hell was that?

"At first, I did not want to include someone so…young and inexperienced but, your _actions_. They spoke louder than your words, reminding me of some…_thing_." Of how much he liked to kill people that retaliated against him? "You could just drive _all_ that passion and fierceness into your work. It would be marvelous actually, if you could hone it." the Uchiha told him as he stepped in even closer. Deidara felt his heart pound heavily in his chest, with a mix between fear and when he had first seen the man at the gallery two nights back.

The blonde looked into the man's eyes. Something was different and he thought quickly of a way out.

Thinking of the possibilities he knew it couldn't be the door because he would have to undo the locks first. His room was further away, the small kitchen was open faced, and all he had was the bathroom next to it. He measured the distance and as he got ready to make a run for it, he took the first step and was instantly grabbed and pulled by his wrist and slammed against the heavy table he had always used to carve out, mold, and create his works.

Ironic, the Uchiha was going to work him over his own work table, with his own working knife.

He held the sides of the table as the taller man placed both his hands on either side of him and leaned in slightly.

He was cornered.

Trying not to panic and do something stupid, he took a deep breath and caught the scent of the Uchiha's expensive cologne. It just rose up to his nose, fresh and clean with a lingering scent that he suspected was the man's natural aroma. It was it that had lingered in the hallway.

"No one has ever stood up to me like you have…" the dark haired man began in a cool, calm, collected reserved tone, that between it and the closeness, triggered something in Deidara that flooded him with anger towards the psychopath. "…though you denied me the chance to finish my words right then and there." He finished and Deidara wondered just what the hell was the man was playing at.

It added to his anger and he looked straight into the cold, gun-metal gray eyes of the man inches away from him.

"Even _if_ you manage to kill me, I won't go down alone." he threatened, glaring at the man, as he shoved him roughly, getting out of the hold and moving away from him and the table.

"I don't wish to kill you." Uchiha Itachi told him in a dark, husky tone, chuckling with a hint of confusion.

The sound of it made him turn to face the man. Was he mistaken and just branding the man as a murderer because there was no other explanation logical to him?

It _all_ got weird after the realization he could be wrong.

Deidara had been about to run to the bathroom but, Uchiha was standing on the path to it. The man looked ready to pounce, his body tensing for a fight so instead he readied himself as well, slightly crouching to avoid whatever came at him. Nothing made sense after that.

Uchiha Itachi just looked at him, tilted his head and closed his eyes as he ran fingers through his hair, as if he had come to the same realization he had.

Those piercing orbs opened up looking straight into his blue eyes so intensely, it paralyzed him where he stood. He watched as the man smirked with knowledge, his hands traveling to unfasten his suit, taking off the blazer. He watched as the Uchiha folded it in half and placed it neatly over the edge of the table. He then observed the man loosen his tie and take it off, straightening it over the blazer.

Then he watched him grab the knife once more and come at him with it.

Deidara cursed, if he had noticed before that the knife was out of his hands, he would have ran sooner, that intense look had been to keep him still and distracted. He took a deep breath and backed away a few steps then found momentum and shifted out of the man's way as he ran, heading straight for the bathroom's door.

Crap. He didn't make it.

He felt a rough push and then he was pulled by his shirt and shoved up against the wall next to the bathroom's door. Right next to the door he had intended to go into and lock himself up.

Damn, he remembered that his cell phone was in there, charging. It would have been perfect if he had made it.

He stood, frozen at first, as arms were placed at either side of his head, confining him. "I observed you as you gazed at my paintings." the man began and Deidara wasn't paying enough attention to understand what the hell he was talking about. "I watched as your eyes lingered on my self-portrait." he said stepping in closer and Deidara felt somewhat confused again.

Was he going to fight, kill him or what? He really wasn't into this _I'm_-_going_-_to_-_mess_-_with_-_your_-_head_-_first_ thing.

"Did you even realize that you touched it? You crossed the line and your fingers traced over my chest, my arm, my face, my eyes…my lips…" that couldn't be right. He was just messing with him. Why would he, Deidara, do that to an Uchiha's painting? One he had never met before? Out of all the things-

A thought came to mind. Him crossing that line, that laid out rug, settling his portfolios on it just to get closer and-

"_What_?" he asked himself in a whisper assimilating what the man was saying. Question really was if all of _this_ was over _that_? Really? Had he really _touched_ it? He couldn't remember…he crossed the line and freed up his hands but…wait…just why would he do that, _unless_?

"You didn't even realize what you were doing and I stood there. A good ten minutes I just stood there, watching you. You were so lost…in me." No, no, no that just couldn't be…no, no…NO. "Kisame told me you seemed talented, _different_, and valuable. The truth is I didn't need anyone to tell me." Okay this was confusing.

So very confusing.

"The moment I saw you outside the gallery I knew but, I just needed to see if you still were." the man stood mere inches away from him crowding him, filling his nose with his scent, his voice ricocheting through his head with a bunch of shit and Deidara felt he could not breathe as he looked into those eyes.

He looked away and cursed as he noticed the other's warmth with the lack of eye contact. Their bodies were too damn close.

Then he felt the man's soft breath over cheek and closer to his ear, impossibly warm. "I need to confirm it still. _You are fascinating_." he whispered. What the hell was it with that tone?

Deidara wanted to run, couldn't though. His mind was between _run_ and _don't_ _run_ and his body didn't know which side to take. It was as if the man was controlling him.

"W-why are you here, hn?" he asked the man, confused trying to figure out what was actually going on or not, what he wanted or not.

He saw one arm fall, thought he could run but then saw the leg pinning him, knee firm against the wall next to his thigh and then he felt the knife's cool blade on his neck.

And there it was. He stood perfectly still, though his body finally started to react by trembling slightly. He felt the tip on his skin for a moment until his shirt, apron and all, were grabbed with the other hand, pulled slightly off his skin while the forearm pressed into his chest and shoulder. He grabbed the forearm that was pinning him tightly.

The knife slid down in a quick sweep, right through the middle, cutting open the apron and shirt. All the while he held on to that arm.

Everything on his upper body was shoved off of him and he took the opportunity to do something when the other gazed at him, as if studying him, memorizing him.

Retaliating, he tried to punch the Uchiha in the face, which didn't work. The man dodged it easily, shoved him harder up against the wall, and looked down at him with eyes similar to that of the painting he had seen at the gallery, similar to ones he had seen before somewhere else in some other time.

Damn, they were livid, immensely fierce and hauntingly familiar.

Something clicked in him then but, the picture wasn't clear enough as Deidara's heart jumped in his chest and he remembered placing his hands on the oil painting.

Remembered what he had felt then that he had been afraid to admit to himself, even now.

Remembered that after all that anger he had gone through the moment he spoke with the Uchiha, he had stored his actions and emotions about the painting away to never think about them again.

Remembered replacing it all only with the memories of the conversation, of the dislike, disdain, that expression of being seen as a nuisance and finally, the homicidal urge he had developed over the last sixty hours or so. It had all covered the rest of that night right up.

He tried to shove the Uchiha off of him but, even through the expensive shirt the man wore, he could feel, under his hands, the hard muscles that told him they wouldn't budge. They told him that he wouldn't be able to get away, no matter how hard he tried, from the man that had captured him.

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**A/N**

**I swear I thought this was going to be a two-shot. I wrote one very long chapter at first and when I revised it, since I added enough, I cut it in half and posted the first chapter, deciding to revise the rest later. When I revised it again, added a whole lot more so I decided to cut it up in half, again, just so that it wouldn't be too long. I'll probably revise the last part and…well, I'm not cutting it up again, so however long that is it will have to stay that way.**

**Review please. I would like to know if you like where this is going. A sequel could easily come of this. Perhaps even a prequel…you'll see why in the last chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

**And this is rated **_**M **_**now**_**,**_** because of this chapter. I really tried not to be explicit at all but, it really depends on the reader and their judgment. Almost broke down while trying to keep things in line. I have an overactive imagination that just makes everything so vivid…. Well just to make sure, I changed the rating, otherwise it would have been rated **_**T**_** because I don't believe its too overboard with the…well, you know.**

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**Lying My Way From You**

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_He tried to shove the Uchiha off of him but, even through the expensive shirt the man wore, he could feel, under his hands, the hard muscles that told him they wouldn't budge. They told him that he wouldn't be able to get away, no matter how hard he tried, from the man that had captured him._

* * *

Deidara stilled for a moment as he felt a heavy hand on his bare lower back.

He really tried not to squirm, not to breathe, as it slowly ran up his spine, dug into his hair and pulled it, making his head fall back and upward to look into those dark eyes. He should really cut his hair.

The knife was gone, thankfully but, he still needed to get away.

He looked into those eyes and shock washed over him as he caught a glimpse of his reflection.

His lips were parted, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded, though misted with anger, and he realized then, at that moment, that he was panting, his breathing hiked, his lungs not receiving enough oxygen.

He glared at the reflection.

He really couldn't understand what his body was doing, what his subconscious mind was thinking, what his reactions were telling him but, as the Uchiha's other arm came around his waist and a smirk danced on the man's lips, his face, his breath so much closer, Deidara had a passing thought of being held the same way before. Then a thigh pressed into his own. It was as if the man was pressuring, holding, digging into every part of his body and his body was reacting in favor of the man instead of against him.

"So _fascinating_. It's like you don't even realize it…but, you're heartbeat's through the roof and your out of breath…am I…stealing your breath? Your skin… it's so flushed, lovely…you can't stop licking your lips and I want to paint you this way, so badly. I want to paint your eyes the way they look at me now through that glare…I want you wild and angry…and your lips…" the man said slowly his voice profound, somewhat enticing and then it started.

Uchiha Itachi, Curator at the Akatsuki Art Galleria, the best of the City of Konoha, handsome, tall, rich, incredibly smart and talented from a model and prominent family that had even graced the covers of important business and art magazines, brought them closer.

Deidara watched as he leaned in and nearly closed his eyes afraid of what would happen. He felt a warm breath over his lips, then there was the lightest rub of a nose and lips over his cheek. It was so…soft, he closed his eyes, felt every breath of the body that had him. His hair held so firmly, maintained his head in place. His waist in a tight hold, kept his body from moving away. Thighs pinned his legs…and it was all so warm…no, hot. It was all hot. And desperate, but…annoyingly slow.

There was a sharp inhale, as if the man were taking in his scent and breath and then their lips almost touched. Almost.

Deidara pushed hard at the man's shoulders, he should get away. He shouldn't let someone he didn't know hold or touch or restrain him in such a way. But, then his hair was pulled even harder as he struggled to get away but, the pull ended up obligating him to stay entirely still.

Another tug came, harder, and he gasped at the lick of pain that shot down his neck and shoulders, giving him goosebumps. Why the hell was the Uchiha doing this to him? Why was he torturing him?

The man took the opening and laid his lips on his, finally uniting them…at least in some way.

Anyone could have said it had been practiced. In an experienced sweep, as if he'd kissed him before, the man just took his lips and kissed softly at first, sweet butterfly kisses that then intensified bit-by-bit, as if teasing and tasting him with caution.

A burn rushed through Deidara's entire system as he felt those lips on his own. His heart pounded. For a moment, he couldn't help it and melted into it, his eyes closed, living in the sensation, feeling that something warm in the pit of his stomach he hadn't felt in the longest time.

Couldn't quite remember the who, the where or the when of it had been either. It had been _that_ long. But they were just so soft, so inviting…. Damned be the man who held and kissed him-

Only when he realized whom he was allowing to kiss him again, did he begin to fight anew with all the might he possessed. Damn Uchiha, he would get away from him! He wasn't going to fall for this. He wasn't this manipulate-able!

Yeah, that didn't go so well, the resistance just got his hair fisted tighter and tugged at again, making him gasp again but, this time, it was into the kiss and a greater invasion took place as a slick tongue suddenly slid into his mouth, searching, demanding, dominating him…actually it felt more like…worshiping, for some reason.

The rhythm of the strokes was too inviting to resist at that point and he gradually fell into it, not realizing when he had. But meeting tongue with tongue, going into the other's mouth and then retracting, repeating it, hearing the man trying to control what sounded like a moan. Feeling the body that held him shudder and the muscles tighten, he felt a yearning he couldn't describe and something more he didn't want to comprehend any time soon.

No one had ever done what was being done to him now. He had never been kissed that way by anyone else. Had never had anyone try to find him on purpose just because…. Had never had anyone taking such control of things that it rendered him incapable of fighting back.

He fisted the shirt in his hands and bit the other's bottom lip, then licked where he had bitten. The man shuddered again and pressed their bodies together and he felt him entirely hard against his body and then in a flash, it was all gone.

The Uchiha abruptly released him.

The man just stepped away from him. He stood a couple of feet away and stared, intently, at him as Deidara slid down to the floor, unable to keep himself up. His thighs were trembling, hands were shaking, his stomach a knot. Shit, his body was aching and his lips burned. It ALL burned.

The Uchiha seemed eagerly waiting for something, eyes hooded, his lips red and swollen, body primed though out of breath and Deidara looked away from him for a moment and at himself trying to figure out what had just occurred-

Wait. A. Minute.

So did that mean he _wasn't_ going to get killed?

Though he hated to admit it now, it was actually fine with him…perfectly fine…. Unless this was a game of sorts and that cursed Uchiha was just toying with him, to then kill him in some hideous, perverted way…actually, it wouldn't be so bad, either. if he thought about it…. Especially if they played for a little while longer before the Uchiha decided ending him.

Damn it, what the hell was he thinking now? He had never felt anything like this with anyone else. It just burned him and he wanted more. Needed more. Much, much more…. A lot more….

Deidara ran his hands over his jean-clad, wavering thighs and tried to calm himself before looking back up at the other man who waited, patiently, for something he couldn't quite figure out yet.

Damn, those eyes, staring, burring themselves into him, they were driving him insane. He couldn't even try to understand what was going on with either one of them because, obviously, there was something going on with the man as well. He couldn't get why he suddenly wanted to scream at the Uchiha for them to forget every last thing that existed for a moment and let whatever that could happen between them happen. Even if it was just for an hour or two and then the whole world fell around them afterward, they should just give it a go and enjoy every last sinful minute of it.

He shakily stood back up and faced the still clothed man and thought of the painting. Half-naked painting….

As a cool breeze stirred in the room he couldn't help but wonder what that body really looked like. Wondered if the muscles were as defined as in the painting. Wondered if the distance between the man's shoulder and his wrist would be the same in real-life as it was in the painting. Wondered what all that bare skin felt like. Tasted like. How warm, no, _hot_…yeah how _hot_ could it get….

Unlike the man, Deidara was half-naked, his shirt and apron sliced in half on the floor at his feet. His torso exposed to the cool draft coming in through the windows, feeling so very chilled against his hot skin…. That _he_ was still dressed wasn't really kind of fair, was it now?

Deidara walked up to the Uchiha, not bothering to think twice about what he was about to do. Approaching him he reached out and grabbed hold of the man's shirt. Sliding his hands down the fine fabric he reached the waist and pulled the shirt free of the man's pants. He then slowly came back up pressing into the man's body, feeling that hard, toned body…he just took the collar with both hands and just ripped the obviously expensive shirt open, sending all the buttons flying around his place.

The Uchiha stood still, staring him down intensely, as Deidara shoved the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms and just threw it next to his own messed up clothes. He then stepped back and gazed at the man. Eyes going over every little detail.

Six feet tall, lightly tanned skin, broad shoulders. Toned, muscled arms, chest, stomach….

Yeah, it was the same.

Well, not really…it was so much better than that. It was the real thing and right in front of him. Warm, moving, breathing…alive.

The major difference, the only difference, were those dark gray burning eyes. They were wild.

The Uchiha's stare turned more intense than in the painting, it was more intense than what it had been a few moments ago and as he stood before the man, he really wanted him. Wanted to feel that wild gaze manifested physically over and in his skin.

"_Magnificent_." Deidara whispered, taking in, through his eyes, every inch of him.

The Uchiha moved, his hands gradually going to his belt. He undid the buckle and released the leather, his muscles shifting beautifully. He smirked and shifted his weight, looking ready to attack and then the man came at him fast, so fast all Deidara managed to do was brace himself for an impact.

Instead of an impact, the Uchiha picked him up with no effort by the belt on his own pants and Deidara wrapped his legs around the man's hips, his arms going around his neck, he couldn't help but wonder why he wanted him so much.

He shuddered, feeling skin-on-skin, warmth-on-warmth, the other's skin carrying that enticing scent. And he wondered, thought of, what was going through the Uchiha's mind. The man obviously wanted him just as much, if not more, as he did.

The thoughts all faded as he felt him practically run off in the opposite direction and towards his room. He held on tight but knew he wouldn't be dropped, nor would they both fall.

Inside his room he was all but thrown on his futon. The man pulling off the unmade bed sheets from under him.

With his body staying as he had landed, Deidara looked at the Uchiha observing him with concentration. Walking up to him slowly he waited as the man reached down to his body and he felt a heavy hand on his hip. The other going to his neck, grasping it, as if to choke him slightly, and he felt the pressure, before it slid down his chest, his stomach, settling over his lower belly for a moment, right above the fire burning in him.

He trembled and shivered at the heaviness and the feel of it. Warm and strong.

The Uchiha must have liked his reaction as he lightly chuckled, his face so lovely as he smirked, and then his belt, button and zipper were undone and, without warning, his pants were pulled off, underwear and all in a clean sweep.

He just stared at the man who was gazing at his body as if memorizing every line and curve, every color and tone…. Every detail.

It felt like being eaten with his eyes and Deidara didn't cover himself. He did the exact opposite, he parted his thighs letting the Uchiha see _all_ of him, inviting him to accommodate himself between them and have a taste, a feel of everything he saw.

The man took the invitation with that smirk on his lips and he shivered again the moment he felt the Uchina's weight on him. He looked into those eyes and raised his hand to take the side of the man's face and pull it down to him.

Their lips met again and he could feel every part of him. Lips against lips, tongue against tongue, the man's soft hair in his hand, the strong muscles on his smooth back, the other's chest against his chest. Uchiha still had his pants on but, he could feel him through the fabric pressed hard against him. That body was so hard…so very hard…and he could feel the other's breath, that heart pounding away…that pulse of rushing blood on fire.

Hands caressed his naked form as they kissed, touching every inch. Grasping, pulling, pressing and unable to hold back he reached down to pull out the other's belt. He undid the button and the zipper, as best he could, on those tailored pants to remove the fabric that was keeping their bodies from uniting further. Then the man pulled them down himself and Deidara pushed at them with his legs, then feet until they were entirely off and on the floor.

The moment there was skin-to-skin, complete skin-to-skin, Deidara lost it.

He opened up himself like he had never done before, not caring of the outcome, wanting to feel the Uchiha's skin against his own skin, to feel his mouth and tongue, to feel his manhood deep inside of him for as long as he could have him, as many times as it was possible.

Damn it, he wanted the feel of the moment to turn into forever.

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000

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It was nearly seven in the evening when Deidara woke up to the smell of food drifting in from the kitchen. Looking through his window he could see the sky darkening, only a bit of light left from the day. The air was cooling and a breeze, coming in from the open window, was lightly dancing over his skin.

He lifted his head off the pillow and tried to stretch only to wince at the discomfort in his arms and lower region, his legs, lower back…not to mention that hidden spot that felt tender without having to actually touch it to confirm it, it was all achy.

He stuck his face in his pillow and, as he breathed in, he caught a different enticing scent from his own and remembered everything.

Damn, the Uchiha.

Pain and all he kneeled up, rather than sat, in one movement. The bed sheet that had been placed at his hips slid down and he looked around the bed for signs that it hadn't been a dream. There were plenty of them. He looked down at himself, for further confirmation and ended up staring at a small, circular, dark mark on the soft skin next to his groin.

A hickey, out of all places. No one would see it but him, hopefully, but, it still was what it was.

He got off the bed with the ache very present, grabbed his pajama bottoms from the small dresser at the foot of the futon, and slid them on, tying them as he walked out into the main room.

As if completely normal and as though he had done it before, what the Uchiha was doing couldn't have puzzled him more. He looked, no, _stared_ at the half-naked man in his kitchen going through _his_ cabinets preparing a meal on _his_ stove.

Who knew the prestigious Uchiha knew how to cook? He was dreaming, wasn't he? Either that or he had accidentally stabbed himself with the knife and was actually bleeding out, lost and delirious in the last moments of his young life.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow." the Uchiha began to say, not bothering to look back at him or explain what the hell he was doing.

Shit, he _wasn't_ dreaming? There really was a half-naked Uchiha in _his_ kitchen, wearing _his_ other pajama bottoms, _cooking_.

"Oh, hell. You're _actually_ _here_ Uchiha-san, hmm?" he asked incredulous as he walked up to one of the two barstools at the counter and slowly sat in one. Wincing at the discomfort for a moment.

"Itachi, just Itachi. And yes, I am here." he said looking over his shoulder at him with a smirk and Deidara looked away trying not to blush. What came next told him, he must have already been blushing. "Before you ask, yes. I worshipped your body with my mouth, my hands, my tongue, my…_body_. A couple of times, actually…and yes, it was…_delectable_." he said in that husky voice and he looked up as the man grabbed some salt and added it to something.

Man, the day had sure turned into something else.

"I took the liberty of going through your works, they look much better in person than what they do in those pictures." Great, he wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing but, then he continued. "I liked that owl you sketched, create a sculpture of it and fill it with emotions. I want to see it when I get back." he said and turned around to face him, leaning over the counter, their faces only inches apart. His stare was back to the one of carelessness that irritated the hell out of him but, it seemed somewhat different now. So, he hadn't lost his chance?

"How _did_ you find me?" he asked seriously curious, thinking that it would be a good time to find out the how's and why's.

"My cousin, he's on the force. He can find anyone." he simply stated and smirked. "I won't tell _anyone_ you are here. This seems like a nice place for you to have. I want to visit you here more often." Itachi added, leaning in closer to him. Now, why would he do that?

"For more '_body_-_worshiping'_, hmm?" he asked though it was meant to be rhetorical because, what would an Uchiha, that was filthy rich and could have any blue-blooded man or woman, want with someone like him other than _that_? Not that he was less than the man but normally the rich and elite paired up with the rich and elite.

What had occurred was supposed to be a one-time thing, right?

"No. I want to be with you anytime, every time we can but, it is not the only thing. You are fascinating to me. I want to know _everything_ that is you." Itachi stated and Deidara stared at him dumbfounded. His face was pure cold expression, his tone the same but, his eyes had a warm glint in them, something like a small fire that just needed a bit more wood to burn stronger.

"So, you'll be gone for a month, right?" he asked trying to bring down the intensity. He didn't really know what else to say. Everything was so sudden. He still felt like it all was a dream.

"Yes, give or take a few days, perhaps week." Itachi said then closed the space between them and placed a soft kiss on his lips, lingering for a moment. "Two days of searching for you. Your cousin was so worried when I appeared at your house." he had been at his house? "I'm glad I found you, I couldn't stand the idea of letting you slip away…again." The words registered quicker this time, now that he wasn't as lost as he had been when the man appeared.

"Wait, again? Why, do you say '_again'_?" Deidara asked surprised and suddenly thought of a few things that had been said before. "Earlier, you…said you…'_still'_ had to see if I was, '_still'_? Why…why would you…say that? Why?" he asked trying to remember more.

"You really don't remember me do you? _You are indeed fascinating_." those words bemused him further, they just sounded so familiar and why the hell did the Uchiha keep repeating them in that tone? The man sighed as if slightly annoyed and coming to terms with something he had to do that initially he didn't want to do.

"Ten years ago we were in the same elementary school for six months. My father was doing business in your hometown." he began and Deidara tried to conjure up the memories of when he was ten. Nope, he would have remembered someone like the Uchiha.

He really would have.

"I could never forget your face or your temper. You were always drawing or taking the art sensei's supply of clay and creating those little creatures ranting about how you would become a great artist someday." yeah, that sounded like ten year old him, but still. "I told you to take up another hobby and you yelled at me that you hated me, that you hated my cold face, my cold eyes, that one day you would come at me and blow me up." A smirk graced Itachi's lips then. "Then I grabbed you by your collar and made you swear you would. You kicked me, I dodged and let you fall to the ground and then you swore you would make me pay." he finished.

It all sounded like something he would do and he thought back carefully. There had to be more to it. He wouldn't forget something like that, at least, not unless something big had occurred and pushed the memories back, like the whole painting-touching-thing some nights ago.

Staring at the man, he thought of it for a moment. Him losing it, harsh tone, smug face…damn it…

Smug, smug, smug…he would remember a smaller, younger kid Uchiha if he cou-

The memories came back to him at once and…it was true.

The trigger was the younger one but, the damn Uchiha had been mean back then as well.

"That was you, hmm?" he asked the man who seemed relieved to have him remember. When Itachi nodded, he continued. "I hated that kid but, I could never remember his name. I thought he was so cool. I wanted him to notice me; acknowledge me…the art sensei always praised his works and hung them on her walls. They stayed there even after you left; she never got rid of them. They are now some sort of school pride or crap. Hmm." he told him remembering all the things that happened and what led him to hate him.

Bang! He remembered!

"You kissed me!" he said pointing at the man angrily and Itachi looked at him relieved, a smirk on his lips.

"Yes, I've kissed you many times-" he began and Deidara cut him off.

"I told you once…I remember, I looked up at you and told you I was _fascinated_ by you." he started and memories kept pouring in. "That day I yelled at you, it was in the boy's bathroom. Your little brother had followed you around. He hated me, he saw us talking during recess and threw food at me…you took me to the bathroom to get me cleaned up and he followed us. Something happened…oh hell-" he trailed off for a moment as he dug a hand through his hair and pulled it softly.

No wonder it had reminded him of something more.

" After you told me all of that and I yelled at you, I felt so stupid for liking someone like you. I got up and tried to hit you again and that was when you grabbed my wrist, pulled me into you again and when I tried to escape you grabbed my hair and pulled it, circling your other arm around my waist. My head went backward and you stared at me for a moment, your eyes were so lost and confused but…then your lips touched mine. You kissed me, twice, in front of your little brother, then you let me go, took him and left without saying another word. You avoided me for a week and then you were gone."

Itachi smiled and he glared at him, still pointing.

"You prick, I wanted to follow you so badly. I wanted you to notice me so damn much, hmm." he added afterward. "I hated you after that and I forgot you because of the anger..."

"Yes, I _did_ notice you and I took your first kiss so that you couldn't forget me." the man said leaning in to give him another chaste kiss. "I guess it produced the opposite effect."

"I was ten you crazy son of a bit-" he began and was instantly cutoff.

"And I was twelve. I really liked you for some reason." he said and sighed. "You became a great artist after all. And you also kept your promise…you _did_ accomplish to make me _explode_…a few times, just not in that way you were initially talking about when I made you promise with a kiss." the man said and he was kissed again. Lingering again, their foreheads touching.

There were so many things he wanted to ask and demand of the Uchiha but, for some reason, he didn't want to go into the details of any of it now. He had really tried to forget those moments back then. It seemed he didn't do a good job. Yeah, he remembered clearly and something stirred in him.

"Itachi, have you been searching or waiting for me all this time, hmm?" Deidara asked and felt him nod against his lips. "Why?" he asked because he didn't know why anyone would do such a thing.

"You caught my eye back then and then again when your sensei showed me your work. Without knowing it was actually yours, it instantly reminded me of you." he started. "I needed to know if it was really you. Back then and even now…your eyes, your hair, your skin…so different from mine, from me…that character of yours, it all attracted me to you and I wanted and still want…you." he said the words with such an ache that Deidara wanted to go back in time and behave differently than what he had after that kiss. "I needed you then and I need you now. So, I'll do everything I can to come back as soon as possible." he should have sought him out before he had left and he should have never forgotten him.

The Uchiha had a yearning in his tone that was borderline to desperate and as Itachi pulled away, he instantly missed him but, it was only to come around the counter and lift him off the stool. Itachi wrapped an arm around his waist and his other hand dug into his loosened hair and he gazed into his eyes before kissing him tenderly.

Deidara let himself get swept away again in the moment. They kissed for what seemed like forever before the man pulled away, only a bit, keeping them embraced, their lips close.

"I hoped to see you again for a long time, and when you appeared right in front of my eyes, then left so suddenly, not having memories of me, I had to come find you and remind you." their breathing was getting heavier. "Life is beautiful only because it fades, so stay with me until the very end of it. No matter what, I won't let you go again. No matter what or who tries to get between us."

Deidara said nothing and just kissed the man, letting his body answer what his words could not. "I'll, wait for…you…hmm." he mumbled between kisses and Itachi released him for a moment turned off the stove, covered everything then pulled him into the bathroom.

"It's not a proper reunion unless we return to where it all started…or at least a representation of it." he whispered with a smirk.

"I feel like I've known you since forever now." he told the man as he shut the door behind them.

Itachi opened up the shower, letting it run until the hot water came in, then took off his bottoms and came towards him. The man undid the tie and Deidara's own pajama bottoms fell.

"I believe we have." he whispered as he approached him and then they both entered the shower. "You will be mine, forever."

Deidara let himself get overtaken again…well, he wouldn't mind if that were true at all. Nope, wouldn't mind being his, at all…forever.

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**A/N**

**Please review and let me know what you think. I wonder if more of you would like a sequel to this? There are a lot of holes that could be explained further and a whole lot of drama established in hidden ways in the text that could open up ways to something more. I would gladly read your ideas for a sequel.**

**Anyway, please review and tell me what you think.**


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